Something Old, Something New
by allikitty699
Summary: Lassie's having a bad day, and Shawn won't leave him alone until he figures out why. Established Shassie. Fluff.


**A/N: To those who I'm writing for – it shouldn't take too much longer, but I've got a lot of writing to do for birthdays and things, so I **_**will**_** be kind of busy. And Aldebaran – don't worry, I haven't forgotten you. : ) It's going pretty well, so it will hopefully be done in a bit. (If you don't see me, however, it's because I'm taking new classes and adjusting my work schedule. D: ) In any case, please enjoy this plotbunny: it was hopping around my head for the past few days and wouldn't stop.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Psych**_** or Marty McFly.**

Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Lassie's Blue

Even those who didn't have Shawn's powers of perception could tell when Lassiter was feeling melancholic. The detective always covered up his pain with alternating snide remarks and moody silence, and even Shawn's spastic "visions" or exuberant declarations of love failed to bring a smile to his face. Most people, when they saw Lassiter stalking through the bullpen and glaring at anyone who dared to look him in the eye, ran for the hills.

Shawn, however, used these days as an excuse to stick to the older man like glue.

Lassiter slammed the front door behind him, stopping by the kitchen before storming into his living room with a scowl on his face. He found Shawn sitting on the couch, watching wrestling on TV. "Hey, Lassie-face. What'd the door do to you? Do you need me to kick its ass, or do you think you put it in its place?"

"Shut up, Spencer." Lassiter flung himself into an easy chair and took a sip of the scotch he'd poured himself.

"Spencer? Wow. I feel like I'm in a time machine. Where's Marty McFly?"

Lassiter glared. Shawn knew that the references to eighties movies made him uncomfortable, as he hadn't seen a lot of them, but they were nearly irrepressible. The fake psychic held up his hands in surrender.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I know that bugs you." He went to sit on the footrest in front of his lover. "What's wrong? You've been all growly for the past week."

"It's nothing."

"Nothing? Lassie, yesterday you made Juliet cry. And then Gus, too." Shawn put a hand on Lassiter's knee. "Come on. Is it a case? I can help, you know."

"I don't need your help on a case!" Lassiter snapped, sounding offended. "You know, Shawn, it's not like we were lost before you came to the department. I'm a damn good cop, thanks, and I've solved _plenty_ of cases without you."

Shawn frowned. "Wow. You really need to snap out of this. Seriously, what is it?"

Lassiter sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "It's nothing, really. Don't worry about it."

"Lassie. I am _psychic_, you remember. And I'm sensing a lot of bad joo-joo here. Either we do this the easy way, and you tell me what's going on, or I'll have to set the spirits on you. And they have very unpleasant ways of garnering information. Gus learned that the hard way when he refused to tell me why he wouldn't buy me that pineapple smoothie the spirits were craving."

"The spirits drink smoothies?"

"Of course, Carly. Everyone needs to be refreshed."

This finally earned a tiny smirk from Lassiter, who leaned back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling. The irritable demeanor dropped, leaving only a slight sadness behind. "It's not important. It's nothing that we can change. Not alone, anyway."

"Oh, well that narrows it down." Shawn rolled his eyes. "One more time: _what is it? _Global warming? War? Poverty?"

"Marriage."

Shawn's stomach twisted. "Oh. Um… What about it?"

Lassiter shook his head, still not looking at the younger man. "It's just that I've found someone that I want to marry – someone that I really think I could make it work with this time – and I can't. It's ridiculous. All I want is… is… you know…" His voice grew slightly strangled, and he quit talking, eyes on the ceiling fan. He cleared his throat quietly and continued. "Anyway, like I said, it's pointless to even talk about until something changes."

This was a first: Lassiter had never looked so sad, so close to crying, so broken, so downtrodden…

And he had never, _ever_ admitted defeat before.

Shawn stood and left the room. Lassiter could hear him rustling around in the hall closet.

"Shawn? What are you doing?"

The fake psychic came back, a fishing pole grasped in his hand. "Do you remember this?"

Lassiter looked it over with a frown. "Yeah. That's the fishing pole your dad gave me after you never used it. What about it?"

Shawn set it down on the coffee table. "My dad gave me that twenty years ago. A long, long time ago."

"Twenty years is generally considered a long time," Lassiter replied, rolling his eyes. "What about it?"

"It was given to me twenty years ago, and I have no idea when it was made. That must make it pretty old, right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Okay." Shawn said this as though it explained everything. He marched back out.

"Seriously, what's going on here? Is this one of your stupid jokes? I'm not in the mood for that crap."

"Patience, Lassifrass," Shawn chided from the kitchen. He came back with a pineapple. "I bought this just this morning."

Lassiter raised an eyebrow. "Congratulations?"

"The point is that it's fresh, right? Brand new."

A migraine was starting to bubble up somewhere between Lassiter's eyebrows. He tried to massage it away. "Great. You found a fresh pineapple. What am I supposed to do with that information, exactly?"

"Lassie, don't be a spider monkey with a broken tail." Shawn ignored Lassiter's clear exasperation and started undoing the strap of the watch around his wrist. "This watch isn't mine, you know. It's actually Gus's. I just started wearing it." He frowned at it as he set it on the table next to the pineapple. "Come to think of it, he hasn't even noticed. He should really learn to take better care of his things."

"Not to sound like a broken record here," Lassiter growled, his tone sarcastic, "but _what the hell are you doing?_"

"Look closely," Shawn said quietly. He moved to stand behind his lover, his hands massaging the detective's shoulders. "I think you can figure out what it means."

"An old fishing pole, a pineapple, and a stolen watch? I can't even begin to imagine the amount of drugs you would need to understand this." Lassiter looked sternly up at Shawn. "Are you doped up, Spencer?"

"That watch wasn't stolen! It was borrowed. _Borrowed,_ Lassie."

A look of comprehension broke over Lassiter's face, and a small smile attempted to twitch its way to life in his lips. "Something old, something new, and something borrowed."

Shawn grinned. "That's right." He bent forward and pecked Lassiter's forehead.

"But where's the something blue?"

Shawn moved to sit on Lassiter's lap. He leaned in close, nose-to-nose with the detective. "Those big, gorgeous eyes are the something blue, you handsome devil." He sat back, still smiling, and ran his fingers through his boyfriend's hair. "Listen, Carlton. I don't care if we get married in a church, or in a courthouse, or in the damn bullpen, okay? I don't care if we have a piece of paper to show other people as proof of how much we love each other. All I know is that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I know that I want to marry you. Right here, right now."

A grin slowly split Lassiter's face. "Are you serious?"

"I'm as serious as Gus's aversion to cats." Shawn stood and pulled Lassiter over to the fireplace, where the pair stood hand-in-hand and face-to-face. "I've never been to a wedding," he admitted sheepishly, "so I don't really know the vows and stuff."

Lassiter looked around the empty room. "Well, I'm pretty sure that we can skip the 'we are gathered here today' stuff. Unless you have some stuffed animals you'd like to invite. And _no_, that was not a serious invitation," he added quickly, seeing the light in Shawn's eyes.

"Aw, come on! Mr. Fuzzyjangles will feel so left out."

Lassiter shook his head, clasping Shawn's hands even more tightly. He looked deep into the hazel eyes of the only person that he knew he could truly trust and tried to steady his breathing. "I, Carlton Lassiter, take you, Shawn Spencer, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life." Shawn heard the slight catch in his lover's voice and saw the very beginning of tears forming in the corners of those ice blue eyes.

Lassiter dropped one of Shawn's hands, searching through his pockets. "I guess this will have to do for now," he mumbled, pulling out a rubber band. He took Shawn's left hand in his own, looping the rubber band loosely over Shawn's ring finger.

Shawn barely remembered to breathe. Sometimes, just sometimes, Lassiter still managed to surprise him.

"And I, Shawn Spencer, take you, Carlton Lassiter, to be my husband. I promise to, uh…" He blushed, stumbling over the words that his head was spinning too hard to remember. "I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad… in sickness and in health. I-I will love you and honor you all the days of my life." He ducked his head down to try and hide the wetness in his own eyes, but he couldn't disguise the small sniffles that were absolutely unstoppable. "Sorry, was… was that okay? Or did I mess up?"

"It was perfect."

Shawn rooted through his pockets, finding the paper from a straw. He did his best not to tear it as he tied it around Lassiter's left ring finger. Shawn couldn't help but feel encouraged at the fact that his boyfriend's – no, his _husband's_ – hands were shaking just as much as his.

Lassiter's voice was low and husky when he finally spoke. "May I kiss the groom, Mr. Lassiter?"

Shawn looked up with a smirk. "You may, Mr. Spencer."

Their lips pressed together, first chastely and gently. Lassiter pulled the smaller man closer and the kiss soon developed into a blissful mixture of passion, love, and lust, their tongues meeting and fighting for dominance, lips straying from each other to nip at collarbones and necks. Shawn gave a tiny whimper of disappointment when Lassiter stepped away.

"Come on," Lassiter said quietly, leading Shawn down the hall. "I think it's time to consummate our marriage."

Shawn grinned and ran ahead, nearly yanking Lassiter off his feet. "Hurry up, hubby. This is going to take a while."

**Please R+R, it's always very much appreciated! And I do take requests. **


End file.
